


The Worst That Could Happen

by ThatRavenclawBitch



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:17:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRavenclawBitch/pseuds/ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: Nicholas Rush has been told to lighten up or face repercussions in his professional career. Lacey French is in desperate need of a wedding date. A blind date provides them both with an opportunity. From the prompt "Rushacey blind date". Rating will definitely increase.Winner Best Anyem Fic in The Espenson Awards 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rowofstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/gifts).



He wasn’t sure why he’d allowed this to happen.

He didn’t particularly want to date. Nicholas Rush had been perfectly happy to remain a single widower for the past six years. He had his work, his students, his work…

So perhaps he didn’t have the most thriving social life. He’d never been one to put much stock in such things. Ever since Gloria’s death he’d considered himself married to his work and that was fine by him.

But after a complaint from yet another undergrad for being “too harsh” in class, he’d been told under no uncertain terms to take some time to himself to unwind or he’d find himself staring down a very long forced sabbatical.

Or “lighten up and get laid or I’ll make your life even more miserable” as his department head, Regina Mills, so eloquently put it.

The problem was that in addition to having no inclination to date anyone, Rush didn’t have the first idea how to go about finding someone to date in the first place. He’d been out of the game for nearly two decades. The local bars were crawling with his students, something he’d rather avoid. Co-workers were off limits and there was no one in his department he’d even entertain the idea of coffee with, much less a full on date. He’d ignored Regina’s suggestion of something called “tinder” and instead done the unthinkable: asked for a set up.

Gold was the closest thing he had to a friend in Boston, though it would be a stretch to call him such. They were equally taciturn, but they were both from Glasgow and Gold usually kept decent whisky in his office. Sharing a drink on Friday afternoons had become something of a ritual between them, complaining about things like the weather or the students, or Regina. There was camaraderie born from mutual experience if not all out friendship.

And so, one Friday, Rush had complained to Gold about his predicament.

“I don’t know how a few disastrous dates is supposed to improve my mood,” he grumbled. “It’s unprofessional for Regina to even suggest it.”

Gold took a sip of his whisky, leaning back in his office chair.

“She has a point,” Gold pointed out. “You are a grumpy bugger.”

Rush scoffed. “And you’re any better?”

Gold shrugged. “Take a look at my end of term reviews. I don’t get half the complaints from students that you do. They still hate me, but not like they hate you.”

“And you attribute that to a regular sex life, do you?” Rush said skeptically.

Gold did have one thing Rush didn’t, a wife. He’d never met the woman in question but he’d seen her photo on Gold’s desk along with a pink-cheeked toddler named Gideon. How a mercurial old bastard like Gold had ever managed to land a woman that looked like that was a mystery to Rush.

“I’m a happily married man,” Gold said, waggling his ring finger in Rush’s direction. “I occasionally leave my office and enjoy life outside of the four walls of this building. That’s all that’s being suggested for you.”

Rush sighed, dragging a hand over his face, two days worth of stubble rasping against his palm.

“Then I should start picking out secluded cabins to go sit on my arse in for the foreseeable future because that sabbatical is looking imminent.”

Gold tapped a finger against his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“Not necessarily,” he said after a moment. “Belle’s sister is coming to visit next week. I’m sure I could set the two of you up.”

Rush raised an eyebrow. From the photograph on Gold’s desk, he had at least 20 years on his wife. Unless Belle’s sister was much older than her, there would be a similar age gap with Rush.

“What’s wrong with her?” he demanded.

Gold snorted a laugh, setting his tumbler of whiskey down on his desk and leaning forward.

“Who says there’s anything wrong with her?”

“If you liked her you wouldn’t offer to set her up with me,” Rush countered.

Gold smirked, his gold tooth glinting in a way that was almost menacing.

“Lacey is an acquired taste,” he said finally. “She can be a lot of personality if you’re not ready for her. But I assure you she’s quite pretty and has appalling taste in men, so you’re probably a sure thing.”

“And this has nothing to do with getting a sister-in-law you don’t particularly care for out of your hair for a night?” Rush challenged.

Gold actually chuckled at that. “Well, everything comes with a price. I don’t grant favors for free.”

And so Rush found himself sitting at the bar of a mid-priced steak restaurant at 8:00 the following Saturday evening. They’d agreed to drinks rather than dinner for which Rush was glad. If the date went horribly wrong they wouldn’t be forced to sit through three courses. All the arrangements had been made through Gold and Rush hadn’t even heard the woman in question’s voice. All he knew was that her name was Lacey, she was Gold’s wife’s sister, and she lived in a small town in Maine. She had dark hair and would be wearing a blue dress.

But as the minutes ticked on and the level of scotch in his glass got lower and lower, he was beginning to wonder if this was all an elaborate prank by Gold and no one named Lacey French even existed. He had given up watching the door, no use letting the whole bar know he’d been stood up, and was contemplating paying for his drink and leaving when an accented voice came from behind him.

“Nicholas Rush I presume?”

He spun around on his barstool and was faced with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. The eyes were set in a bloody gorgeous face, smooth pale skin, pink cheeks and plump red lips currently twisted in to a smirk. Her dark brown hair was pulled up, a few tendrils escaping and cascading over her pale shoulders. The dress she was wearing was skin tight, hitting her just at upper thigh and leaving miles of toned perfect legs uncovered. She looked half his age and so far out of his league he couldn’t even begin to comprehend this was actually his date for the evening.

“Yeah,” he managed to stutter out and the smirk on Lacey’s face grew.

“Lacey,” she said, sticking her hand out to shake his. Rush took it dumbly. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic here is a nightmare.”

She scooted on to the barstool next to him and Rush shook his head ever so slightly, trying to come to terms with the woman in front of him.

“Gold failed to mention you and Belle were twins,” he said finally. If he’d known he’d was going to be meeting Gold’s wife’s doppelganger he might have been slightly more prepared. Now he was fighting the very real desire to get up and run out of the bar as quickly as his legs could carry him. He’d been ready to act on his best behavior but now he’d been caught off guard and Rush knew he was rude and snappish when out of his element.

“Is that a problem?” Lacey asked, drumming red nails against the mahogany bar.

“An observation,” he replied.

Lacey bit her lip, eyeing him over, taking in his white button down and brown blazer.

“Well you’re exactly what I expected,” she said finally. “Gold told me to look for the most miserable looking bastard in the place.”

“Glad I could live up to your expectations,” he grunted, turning back to his drink. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d have anything remotely in common with Lacey. Lacey sighed, placing her elbows on the bar and leaning forward to see past the fringe hanging in his face.

“Are you gonna buy me a drink or…” she trailed off, watching him with those stunningly blue eyes. Rush wanted to melt into the floor.

“Certainly,” he said instead, motioning to the bartender. Lacey ordered whiskey, neat and they sat in silence while it was poured.

“So you’re a professor of physics,” Lacey said once she had her drink in hand. “What’s that like?”

“Mentally stimulating,” he returned. Lacey nodded, pushing her drink around in circles, leaving smears of condensation across the bar surface.

This date had hardly begun and he could already feel it crashing down around him. He hadn’t wanted to be here in the first place, he reasoned to himself. It was bound to turn out bad regardless. But she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and he knew if he opened his mouth to say more than a few words he’d inevitably drive her away forever. Better to sit in silence, really.

“What do you do?” he asked, belatedly. It was an easy enough question, one that couldn’t get him into trouble.

Lacey shrugged. “A little of this, a little of that,” she said noncommittally. “I do some waitressing to pay the bills and clothing alterations as well. I like to design, but there’s not much of a market for couture in Maine, sadly.”

“You make clothes,” Rush said stupidly. “Did you make that?” he gestured to her bright blue dress, the exact shade of her eyes.

“I did!” Lacey said proudly, turning this way and that on her stool to model the garment. “Do you like it?”

His eyes lingered on her legs a little longer than appropriate and that infernal smirk had made its way back on to Lacey’s face.

“It certainly leaves little to the imagination,” he said, already mentally berating himself. This is why he didn’t date. This is why his students hated him. He couldn’t find one nice thing to say to the pretty woman sacrificing her Saturday night to have a drink with him. He had to say the worst thing possible. Before he could apologize, Lacey had thrown her head back in a laugh, a loud guffaw unlike anything he’d ever heard before. He was rendered speechless by how such a sound could come from someone so tiny. 

“Well, you know what they say, Nicky, when you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

He almost choked on his tongue at the nickname.

“Nicky?” he asked hoarsely.

Lacey shrugged. “You look like a Nicky more than a Nicholas.”

“Most people just call me Rush,” he countered.

“Even women you’re on a date with?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I don’t go on many dates.”

“You don’t say,” Lacey said, her eyes wide and mocking, before letting out another laugh. “Gold warned me you didn’t get out much, but boy are you worse off than I expected.”

Rush blanched. He knew it had been a bad idea to let Gold set him up on a date, but he’d hoped the man had the decency not to shit talk him before it even started.

“What else did Gold tell you about me?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“That you’re a brilliant scientist but an idiot when it comes to most everything else,” she said with a small smile. “That you wouldn’t have agreed to this date if your job didn’t depend on it so try not to be too offended when you inevitably blow me off.”

“Ah,” Rush said. He wasn’t sure if Gold had handicapped him or extended this date to a full ten minutes with his warning. If Lacey had come into this expecting a fully functional human being she’d have been grossly disappointed.

“So why does your job depend on you going on a date?” Lacey asked. “Seems a bit invasive on the part of your employer.”

“On that, we agree,” Rush said. “I’m afraid I can be a bit short with students who try my patience. For some reason this has been determined to be a failing of mine rather than a reflection of the caliber of student admitted to the university.”

“And, what, your boss thinks you’ll be nicer to idiots if you get a little action?”

Rush had chosen the wrong moment to take a sip of his drink, sputtering a bit at Lacey’s words.

“Something like that,” he said, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand. “My, uh, lack of social interaction has been noted.”

Lacey nodded, turning fully toward him on her barstool and leaning in close. He could smell her perfume, light a floral and intoxicating and couldn’t help leaning in even closer, chasing that scent.

“So what you really need,” Lacey said in a hushed voice, her warm breath fanning across his face, “more than a date or a good fuck or anything else, is a girlfriend.”

Rush startled. “What?” he demanded.

Lacey chuckled. “Don’t worry, Nicky. I’m not some desperate spinster trying to nab you on the first date. I’m just someone with a similar problem.”

“You don’t seem like the type to have a hard time finding a date,” he said skeptically. “If anything I’m amazed you were free tonight.”

Lacey gave him a sly smile, bumping her shoulder against his. “Nicky, you charmer.”

He felt the tips of his ears burning at her flirtatiousness and Rush was glad for his long hair that effectively covered them. He was so hard up for human contact that the least bit was turning him into a pathetic schoolboy.

“My question still stands,” he said, getting back to the matter at hand. “How could you possibly be in a situation anything like mine?”

Lacey leaned back on to her stool and he immediately missed her closeness. A stupid thought, all things considered. 

“I’m bloody starving,” she said, glancing through the bar to the main restaurant and bustle of activity there. “Buy me dinner and I’ll tell you my tale.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rumple-belle prompted: Before Lacey can tell Rush why she wants a fake boyfriend, her ex shows up at the restaurant and things might get a bit out of hand with the play acting. Turns out Rush is a pretty great kisser.

There was a bit of a wait for a table, so Lacey and Rush finished their drinks, talking briefly about Boston and the shit cold weather. Apparently Rush had moved from California a few years back and Lacey couldn’t imagine why. If she ever found herself on the west coast, she was certain she’d never leave.

She didn’t remember much about Australia, having left when she was only six, but she remembered the heat, the sand between her toes down at the beach on Sunday afternoons with her mother. She remembered the sound of the surf crashing on the shore and the sun beating down on her pink shoulders. She thought she might be truly happy if she could have all that again. Beaches in Maine weren’t quite the same.

“Why would you move here from California?” she asked, throwing back the last dregs of her whiskey. “Didn’t you know it was cold?”

A shadow seemed to pass over Rush for a moment, a brief thing and hardly noticeable if she hadn’t been watching him so closely. But the relaxed energy that had been flowing between them since her proposition seemed to tense, the air thick.

“Job opportunity,” Rush said after a beat, the tension breaking.

She could sense that he was lying, but she didn’t call him out on it. She’d only just met the man after all and if he wasn’t comfortable disclosing the reasons for a cross-country move she certainly couldn't blame him.

A moment later the hostess told them their table was ready and Lacey pushed the question out of her mind entirely, faced with a more nerve-wracking realization.

She'd never actually been on a blind date before.

As Rush had so flatteringly observed, she’d never been the type to have trouble getting a date on her own. Every other date she’d ever been on she at least had the benefit of knowing the other party wanted to fuck her. Rush was an enigma.

So far things had gone pretty smoothly, despite Rush’s general discomfort, but a drink was all that had been agreed on. Dinner felt a bit more involved and, well, date like, even if they were about to discuss fabricating a relationship for their respective needs.

As the hostess led Lacey and Rush to a corner table of the restaurant, a wrap around plush burgundy booth allowing them to sit directly next to each other and furthering the date like vibe, she reflected that her first blind date couldn’t have come at a more fortuitous time.

As much as she hated to admit it, she’d been late tonight because she was nervous. She’d even almost backed out of the whole thing at the last second. All she’d known about Nicholas Rush was that he was in his 40s, a physics professor and “an intolerable ass so you’ll probably love him” according to Gold.

Lacey knew she’d never been prized for her intellect. She hadn’t gone to college or grad school. She was frankly dreading being looked down on by someone so much older and better educated than herself. But she’d also been curious. Gold had told her his colleague’s job prospects depended on him feigning a social life and that was a mystery she couldn’t pass up. So she’d steeled her spine, taken a shot of bourbon, and gone on her way only to find someone even more nervous and out of their depth than she was.

Lacey was pleasantly surprised with Rush so far. He was handsome in an underfed, neurotic kind of way. She liked his long hair and his wire framed glasses and thin frame. His eyes were large and dark and there was something altogether puppyish about him. And the accent, well, Lacey had always liked a man with an accent.

He obviously hadn’t the first idea of what to do with her and Lacey was overcome by a weird sort of protective instinct, certainly nothing she’d ever felt for a man before. As strange as it seemed, Lacey sensed this man needed her if for nothing more than a good time. And it just so happened she needed him too.

Lacey had never been on a blind date before, but there was something more than curiosity that had lured her to the bar tonight.

Being dumped by your boyfriend of two years so he could go on a journey to find himself was bad enough. It was worse when he surfaced six months later with a gorgeous blonde fiancé in tow.

It wasn’t that she was still in love with Will. She wasn’t sure she ever had been. He was nice enough, funny, game for a laugh, and the sex was decent. But he’d never made her weak in the knees or anything. It was more the principle of the thing.

Will had been a steady and constant presence in her life when she really needed it, and then he’d up and abandoned her. After Belle had married her former professor, settled down in Boston and had a baby, she’d lost that one person who was always there by her side. Will had filled that position for a while. Without anyone she was particularly close to in Storybrooke she was beginning to wonder what she was even still doing there. And damn it all, but Will didn’t get to drop her and move on so quickly. He didn’t get to win.

Will’s wedding was happening as quickly as his engagement had. He and the posh, British, Anastasia were planning a big white wedding in the center of town and it seemed the whole of Storybrooke was in on the action. Lacey had even been tapped to make the dress.

Yes, she was designing the wedding gown for her ex-boyfriend’s new bride. If not for the overwhelming urge to rip the dress in half every time she looked at it, Lacey would almost be proud of how big a person she was being. In truth, it was the biggest commission she’d ever received. She wasn’t going to ruin the dress and her reputation as a designer at the same time, not when this dress could lead to more jobs and less time slinging burgers at Granny’s. The dress would be perfect. It would bring tears to people’s eyes. Ana would look like an angel, a vision, something people would talk about for years.

Even so, taking measurements of Anastasia’s tall, lithe form and fabric shopping for the perfect silk organza to match with the antique lace from her grandmother’s own exquisite wedding gown, was an exercise in self-control the likes of which Lacey had never experienced. Taking a weekend off to visit Belle had seemed a necessity more than anything else and when Gold had offered her up as a date to one of his colleagues she’d figured it couldn’t actually make her life _worse_ at the moment.

Or so she’d thought.

She had come to Boston to get away from thinking about Will and Ana and the dress and the wedding. But once she and Rush had been settled into a corner booth, rather more romantic and cozy than this business transaction of a date warranted, she saw a familiar leather jacket clad figure enter the restaurant flanked by a few other men she knew.

“Shit,” she mumbled under her breath. She hadn’t even had time to solidify anything with Rush. They’d known each other for a grand total of 45 minutes. She couldn’t very well introduce Will to her handsome, experienced, professor boyfriend right now. Rush was so skittish he’d probably run for the exits.

But Lacey was nothing if not an opportunist, and this strange twist of fate certainly presented an opportunity.

“Is something wrong?” Rush asked, looking up at Lacey from above the menu he was perusing.

Will and his band of merry idiots had passed the hostess stand and were being led deeper into the restaurant. Their path would take them right by the corner booth. It was now or never.

Lacey plucked the menu out of Rush’s hand, placing it on the white tablecloth in front of him before scooting closer on the booth seat. It was damn lucky they hadn’t been seated at one of the tables in the center of the restaurant. This would have been difficult if she’d had to flip a table to get to him.

“I’m about to do something and, for the love of God, can you please just go along with it and I’ll explain everything later?”

Rush just stared at her confusedly. “What?”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m real sorry about this.”

Then she grabbed him by the back of the neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Rush was startled at first, his hands splaying out at his sides, one knocking in to his water glass, as he let out a gasp. Lacey took advantage of it, slipping her tongue into his mouth and twining it with his. After a few awkward seconds, he seemed to melt, his hands falling naturally to her waist and pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Her hands found their way into his hair, combing through the silky strands, softer than she could have imagined. Rush's tongue traced along the roof of her mouth and Lacey slung one of her legs over his until she was almost straddling him. Heat was flaring to life, racing down her spine and settling low in her belly, the kind of arousal she hadn't felt in ages. God he was a good kisser. 

Lacey was so caught up in how perfectly they seemed to fit against each other, how warm and soft his lips were against hers, that she almost forgot why she was doing this in the first place. Almost.

She pulled back from the kiss and Rush followed her, leaning forward as if on instinct to prolong the contact.

She opened her eyes, staring into his. They were dark, pupils dilated, his breathing shallow. She was sure she looked similarly. Her hand slipped from his hair, resting against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath the white cotton of his shirt.

“Lacey?” came a voice from beside their table, and they sprang apart. Rush pulled his hands away from her waist and bunched his napkin in his lap, twisting the white fabric in a white knuckled grip.

“Will!” Lacey said, feigning surprise, but not the flush creeping across her face and neck. She hadn’t expected kissing Nicholas Rush would feel quite like that. “What are you doing here?”

“Stag night,” he said by way of reply, gesturing to the other men who had continued on to their table, laughing raucously and ordering a round of drinks from the beleaguered looking waitress. “Some of the guys got started a little early. Hope they don’t kick us out.”

Lacey just nodded, reaching for Rush’s hand in his lap and pulling it up on the table, twining their fingers together.

“Well, I’m just here to visit Nick,” she said, squeezing the man in question’s hand. A sideways glance showed her Rush’s face was impassive, seemingly going along with the ruse. She just hoped he’d keep it up.

“Dr. Nicholas Rush,” he said after a beat of awkward silence, reaching out with his free hand to shake Will’s. “Nice to meet you.”

Will returned the handshake firmly. “Will Scarlet.”

“Pleasure,” Rush said.

“I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone,” Will continued, turning his focus back to Lacey and jamming his hands into his pockets awkwardly.

“Oh, it’s still pretty new,” Lacey said, leaning over to bump her shoulder against Rush’s playfully. No need to let on exactly how new. “Nick is a colleague of Mr. Gold’s. That’s how we met.”

“Oh,” Will said, nodding his head. “Good. How’s Belle?”

“Great! The baby keeps her busy.”

“I can imagine.”

Rush cleared his throat and Will’s eyes flicked over to him as if he’d forgotten the other man was there for a moment.

“Well, I should get back to the lads,” he said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

“Sure,” Rush said stonily.

Will managed a weak smile before ambling back over to his friends.

“So I take it that’s the reason you find yourself in need of a boyfriend?” Rush said, watching the other man’s retreating back.

Lacey took her hand back from Rush’s, busying her hands with smoothing out her skirt.

“Yeah,” she said, a little sheepishly. “Asshole ex is getting married and I need a date to the wedding. But it can’t just be a date, you know? I need to be doing just as well as him. I need a relationship.”

“Why are you even going to your ex’s wedding in the first place?”

Lacey blinked, not expecting the straightforward question.

“Because I need to show him that I’m doing as well if not better than he is,” she reiterated. “Because he doesn’t get to win.”

Rush looked confused. “Are there winners and losers in a break up?”

Lacey made a wide motion with her hands. “Duh.”

Rush smiled at her simple declaration, just a brief quirk of lips, but it was the first smile she’d seen on his face all night. She liked it. The man had dimples.

“So, what?” he continued. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend at a wedding and in return you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend so my department head stops analyzing my love life?”

Lacey nodded. “It’s perfect. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”

Rush still looked unsure, his eyes flicking over to where Will was not so subtly watching them.

“Lacey I’m no actor,” he said. “One brief interaction I can handle but a whole wedding weekend? That’s bound to blow up in our faces.”

“If it does that’s my problem, not yours, isn’t it?” she said with a shrug. Honestly Rush had nothing to lose in this scenario. Storybrooke didn’t know him. If Lacey’s lies unraveled she’d be the one looking the fool in front of the entire town, not him. Maybe that’s what she wanted after all. Maybe that would finally give her the impetus to pack up and leave.

“So what do you say?” she continued, turning her best doe eyed look on Rush, one hand resting gently on his forearm. She’d always been fairly proficient at getting men to do what she wanted. She just hoped Rush wouldn’t be any different.

Rush looked pained for a moment before answering.

“How big of an arse are we talking?”

“He’s marrying a skinny blonde twit with tits twice the size of mine less than six months after dumping me so he could travel the world and ‘find himself’ like a stereotypical upper middle class white male pig.”

Rush arched an eyebrow at the acidity in her words.

“Sounds like a prick,” he said finally.

Lacey sat back with a smile, knowing she had won.

“Fine,” Rush said, picking up his menu and staring down at it. Lacey got the impression he was doing anything he could not to look her in the eye. “Let’s figure out the logistics. But first I need a steak and another drink.”

Lacey picked up her own menu, still watching Nick from the corner of her eye.

“Thank you, Nicky,” she said teasingly, and watched him startle slightly, looking over at her and catching her eye. She turned back to the menu, grinning down at the selection of steaks.

She wasn’t sure why she’d bestowed Rush with a nickname. She was trying to startle him, to break the awkward tension between them at the bar and spur him into conversation. Now that she had, she thought it fit him.

_Nicky,_ she thought to herself with another giggle, feeling Rush’s eyes on her.

Of all the stupid schemes Lacey had come up with in her life she thought picking Nicholas Rush as her faux boyfriend might be one that actually worked. All she had to do now was forget how fucking amazing it felt to kiss him.


	3. Chapter 3

Nicholas Rush had not kissed a woman in years. He’d not kissed a woman other than Gloria in decades. Finding himself with a 20-something year old woman draped across his lap and begging him to be her date to her equally young ex-boyfriend’s wedding was certainly not how he foresaw his evening going.

But here he was and the one question rattling around in his rather impressive brain was “why me?”

It was true that he was a warm body in the right place at the right time. Lacey had already committed him to the role with the public displays of affection. She couldn’t rightly show up at a wedding with a completely different boyfriend after introducing her ex to him. But he was sure Lacey would regret her choice of faux boyfriend. He certainly had next to nothing to recommend him.

The thought continued to roll around in his head as they ordered their food and drinks and Lacey clued him in on the specifics of her needs.

The wedding was in two weeks. Lacey was expected to attend several of the festivities including a bridal luncheon, the rehearsal dinner, and the wedding itself.

Rush almost choked on his whipped garlic potatoes at that revelation.

“What, are you in the bloody wedding party?”

“No,” Lacey said with a roll of her eyes. “That would be ridiculous. I barely know Anastasia. But I’m making her dress so she wants me to go to all this shit.”

Rush wiped his mouth with his napkin, raising an eyebrow at Lacey.

“You’re making your ex-boyfriend’s fiancée’s wedding dress,” he deadpanned. “Have you ever come across a handy little word in the English language? I believe it’s pronounced ‘no’. Why don’t you try using it some time?”

Lacey rolled her eyes again.

“Does this poor girl know she’s entrusted her wedding dress to the hands of her intended’s ex girlfriend? Is this a 'keep your friends close and enemies closer' situation?”

Lacey looked uncomfortable for a moment. “It’s never come up between us. But I’m sure Will told her, why wouldn’t he?”

Rush narrowed his eyes. “Why indeed?”

“Look, Will told her he had a friend who was a designer and she liked my portfolio so she asked me to do it. It’s the first wedding dress I’ve ever been commissioned for. She’s paying me a bloody fortune to do it. I like a challenge.”

“You want to be on the front lines of this,” Rush interrupted her stream of excuses. “You could easily have said no to all of this and no one would have thought it the least bit strange. You did this to yourself.”

Lacey crossed her arms against her chest, looking surly.

“So what is this about?” Rush asked. “Just so I know what I’m getting in to. Are you trying to make him jealous? Trying to sabotage the whole thing? Because that’s a little more complicated than I’d like to take part in.”

“No!” Lacey exclaimed, balling her napkin in her fist before tossing it down on the table. She pushed her half eaten steak away, glancing sidelong at where Will and his friends were sitting across the dining room. Then she dropped her voice to a whisper.

“I just…I need him to know he didn’t hurt me,” she said, shoulders hunched forward. “I need him to know that I’m doing just as well as he is, that I’m not home pining for him because he tossed me off for someone better.”

She looked so much smaller all of a sudden, the bravado she’d been wearing all night slipping away and leaving a petite girl in a too big booth. He had the overwhelming urge to hug her, an altogether foreign feeling. Rush had never been a hugger.

“Are you?” Rush prodded. “Pining for him?”

Lacey looked up at him, her eyes wide at the direct question.

“No, of course not,” she said. But there was something in her eyes, some flicker of pain. He didn’t believe her.

Rush nodded, tossing his own napkin down on his plate. It seemed they’d both lost their appetites. His gut was churning. This was a bloody terrible idea. Lacey was beautiful and sad and clearly in love with her ex and he had agreed to be dragged along in her wake. There was no possible way this weekend in Maine wouldn’t end in disaster.

“Why me?” he blurted out, finally voicing the question that had haunted him since Lacey pressed her lips against his. “Other than timing, that is.”

Lacey let out a breath, seeming glad for the change in conversation.

“I don’t know,” she said. “You seem nice.”

“No I don’t,” Rush countered. “I don’t seem nice because I’m not nice. I never have been, not even as a child.”

“You’re a doctor,” she said with a shrug. “That’s impressive.”

“Not a medical doctor,” he inserted. “I have a PhD in physics and teach on the collegiate level.”

“Exactly,” Lacey said, swirling the wine in her glass with one hand. “You’re smart. Trust me, Will’s not. Not quantifiably so anyway. You have all this education and letters behind your name. Trust me, that’s not a common thing in Storybrooke.”

“So your main criterion for this scheme is intelligence?”

“Can’t hurt,” Lacey said with a wink.

“I’m not much to look at,” he said, changing tactics.

Lacey shrugged again, giving him a once over. He could feel his skin prickle as her eyes trailed over him.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think you’re pretty cute.”

He could feel the tips of his ears burning and he looked down at a blot of steak sauce marring the white tablecloth, hoping the blush wouldn’t spread. He wasn’t used to people calling him cute. He wasn’t even sure he liked it. But something about Lacey made him want her to like him. That was dangerous. This entire thing was dangerous. This was his first date in years. He was out of practice and Lacey French was far too pretty and far too clever and far too hung up on her ex-boyfriend.

Their waitress arrived at the opportune moment and Rush quickly asked for the check, all but pushing his credit card on to her to hurry the process. A few moments later he found himself outside the restaurant with Lacey as they both awkwardly shuffled around for their keys.

“Well, thanks for dinner,” Lacey said. “And the drinks.”

“My pleasure,” he said with a nod.

“As for our deal…” Lacey trailed off, looking up at him expectantly.

She was so tiny, barely reaching his chin despite her heels. She was pretty and delicate but fierce and her blue eyes were cutting right through him. He couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a shake of his head. “I truly am, but I don’t think I can do this.”

Lacey let out a sigh, kicking the toe of her shoe against the pavement.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “I mean we didn’t even get to talk about what I could do for you, but okay. It was a silly idea anyway.”

Rush had almost forgotten about his own predicament. His blind date hadn’t done anything to improve his standing with Regina Mills. He was bound for that secluded cabin in the woods after all, it seemed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rush said. “There are worse things than a forced sabbatical.”

Lacey snorted a laugh at the way he grimaced over the words.

“Sure,” she said, unconvinced. “You know, you shouldn’t give up. You’re not half as bad at this dating thing as you think you are.”

“Oh?”

Lacey shook her head, biting her bottom lip as she gave him the once over once again.

“Bloody good kisser to boot,” she said, winking at him before turning on her heel and heading off down the street into the night.

“Goodnight Nicky!” she called over her shoulder.

Rush stood there dumbly for a long moment, watching the movement of her hips in the tight blue fabric of her dress. Then he shook himself, feeling like a pervert. It was time to head home to his empty apartment and look at timeshares. Perhaps there was a cabin in Maine.

* * *

 

The Monday after Rush’s date with Lacey dawned bright and dismal at the same time. They were nearing the end of the semester, which meant he was only a few short weeks away from his next round of student reviews. They were bound to be just as scathing as usual and then he’d be out on his ass. Maybe he could make his time off worthwhile. He could get some serious work done on his own, without classes to break up his day. He could finally commit himself fully to research.

He was focusing on these sunny thoughts as he made his way from the faculty parking lot to the physical sciences building that morning when he was suddenly accosted by a blue and chestnut blur slamming in to him. 

"What the?" he gasped, stumbling back as the person in question grabbed on to his arms for balance. "Watch where you're...Lacey?"

"Hi," she said a tad meekly. 

"What are you doing here?" 

He hadn't really expected to ever see Lacey again. He'd thought she'd be back in Maine by now, back to finishing up Anastasia's wedding gown and never giving him a second thought. But here she was before him, her dark blue coat buttoned up to just under her chin, her dark curls pulled up in a messy bun. Her cheeks were pink in the cold morning air, her eyes bright. She was absolutely breathtaking. 

"Gold told me when and where to find you," she said with a wave of her hand as if that explained everything. 

"Okay," he said, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "Why did you need to find me?"  

“Because I need your help,” she admitted, eyes darting off to stare at a stately oak tree over his shoulder. “Look I know you said you weren’t comfortable with my plan and I’m really sorry to do this, but I really, really need you.”

“Why?” Rush asked. “What happened?”

“Will told everyone about you,” she said in a rough whisper. “Apparently he hadn’t told Ana that we used to date after all and she got upset and was ready to fire me as her dress designer so Will told her I was dating a professor and bringing you to the wedding. I can’t show up alone now. My career depends on Ana thinking I’m completely in love with you.”

Rush opened his mouth to respond but nothing seemed to want to come out. 

Lacey threw her head back with a groan. "Fuck," she said loudly. "This is so fucked. I'm so sorry. You know, just forget it. I'm sorry I bothered you." 

She turned to go but something seemed to possess Rush. Without even thinking, he reached out for her, grabbing her by the elbow.

"Wait," he said as Lacey spun back around, her blue eyes wide and hopeful. "I'll do it." 

"You will?" Lacey exclaimed. "I mean you'd be really saving my hide, but don't feel like you have to." 

Rush shook his head. "It's fine. And it benefits me as well, you know. You scratch my back, I scratch yours, right?" 

 

“Thank you!” Lacey exclaimed before throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He could feel every glorious curve pressed against him, his hands hesitantly going to pat her awkwardly on the back. They certainly needed to work on the authenticity of their physical interactions if this was going to be believable.

Lacey pulled back after a moment, a bright smile on her exquisite face.

“I promise you won’t regret this,” she said, planting a kiss against one stubbled cheek. “I’ll call you with more details soon.”

And then she was off like a shot, disappearing across the quad as quickly as she'd appeared. 

"Well, well," came a voice from behind him and Rush felt an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. 

"Regina," Rush said, turning to face the Dean. He wondered if she'd overheard any of his conversation with Lacey and braced himself for the worst. 

"It seems you took my advice after all," she said, a smirk twisting her red lips. “She seems sufficiently out of your league. I do hope that wasn’t a student.”

“Of course not,” Rush said with a snort. And then, because he was absolutely insane and he was fucked over no matter how he looked at it, he added, “She’s my girlfriend.”


End file.
